If The World Were Ending
by Spoons1899
Summary: Allan and Will during Walkabout, in what they think might be their last moments together.


This is not my usual kind of writing, but it was an idea in my head that wouldn't go away, and then was helped along by a writing prompt on the robinhoodbbc livejournal community.

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_If the world were ending would you kiss me or just leave me?_

-Do You Know What I'm Seeing?

by Panic At The Disco

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The dust from the approaching army was thick in the air, making Will's eyes sting and his throat tight. He thought of Djaq and the other outlaws in the forest, thought of his promise to Robin, then glanced to the man at his side.

"You're leaving." It wasn't a question.

The stinging in his eyes grew worse and Will reached out to touch Allan's arm. It was all the answer the other man needed. He turned briskly away, then back, then raised his arm as if to hit Will, then lowered it.

"I'm—" Allan struggled for words. "You— we—" He glanced up, saw the sadness and pity and understanding in Will's eyes, and growled "Fuck it" before smashing himself against the carpenter in a rough, demanding kiss.

Will didn't respond, not pushing him away nor drawing him closer as Allan fitted his shorter, stockier body against Will's taller, leaner one, and kissed his way fiercely into his mouth. The lack of reaction seemed to infuriate Allan, and he put both his hands on Will's shoulders and shoved backwards hard, following him until they were both pressed against the closed door of a tavern.

Again, Will did nothing, and Allan stretched on tiptoe to bite down hard on his jaw. "Going to tell me to stop?" he taunted against Will's skin.

"No." His voice carried no emotion, and he didn't meet Allan's eyes.

"Why not?" In contrast, Allan was getting angrier, sounding petulant.

"Because it's the last time I would have to." Something broke in Will's voice, allowing Allan a small look into all the emotions his stoic demeanor was concealing. "And I was taught you should always grant a dying man his last wish."

Allan drew back at those words, looking at Will with a disbelieving sort of horror, as though the truth of his situation was just beginning to sink in.

"Fuck," he whispered again, a realization and a regret and an apology.

"Yeah," Will said with the barest hint of tears, then leaned forward and covered Allan's mouth with his own.

At first he was slow and gentle and Allan moaned at the contact, but the heat and desperation between them built with a frantic crescendo and before long the kiss was nothing but a hot, needy tangling of lips and tongue. Allan shoved Will backwards again, banging his body against the door hard enough to bruise, then reaching around him to fumble for the lock. Will gasped into Allan's mouth as his hand slid past Will's hip, clawing and tugging until he finally managed to get the door open and they both tumbled inside.

The tavern was dark and cool and Allan wasted precious seconds deliberating _table or floor, table or floor?_ Will, with his innate swiftness that always caught Allan off guard, seized him around the waist and pulled him into full body contact. The resulting grind of their hips knocked them both off balance and they fell sideways into unyielding wood.

"Table it is," Allan growled, digging his hands into Will's hips and pressing against him so that the carpenter cried out and arched back, body bending over the table with all the gracefulness of a hand-carved bow. Allan continued to roll against him, practically climbing his body until they were more or less situation on the table, Will sprawled deliciously beneath Allan who sat astride him, throughly enjoying the way Will writhed when he rocked back just so—

A surprisingly fierce snarl erupted from the slight carpenter and he reached up to seize Allan's hair, dragging him down into another frantic, penetrating kiss. Allan leaned forward and braced himself on his forearms to obtain better access to that wonderful mouth, and suddenly found Will's hands at his waist, pulling his vest free of his pants, shoving it up at high as it would go then attacking the tunic underneath.

"Cheater," Allan murmured into Will's mouth, biting down on his bottom lip in retaliation, but helping him remove the clothing nonetheless. He set to work on Will's shirt immediately after, cursing at scarves and ties and too many layers, then finally hissing at the prize of bared, smooth flesh. For a moment he flattened himself on Will, enjoying the way their skin slid together, reveling in the small noises he could hear in Will's throat. His kissed the skin there, hands skimming across peaked nipples and taunt muscles until Will bucked against him, nearly knocking him off the table with the jolt of pleasure that shot through him from the intimate contact.

He responded by arching his back then bringing himself forward, watching with delight as Will's eyes closed and his head tipped back, his neck straining with the tension. Allan could see every swallow that coursed down his throat, the sight washing him in heat and making him rock back again. He felt Will's groan through their connection and he couldn't suppress a small gasp of his own at the feeling, leaning down once more on his forearms to taste the sweat on Will's flexing stomach, his chest, and finally that inviting throat.

"Will," he murmured in between alternating kisses and sucking bites that made the carpenter's head toss and his hands scrabble at Allan's back. "Will, if I survive—"

He broke off for a moment as Will's hands skimmed down his backside and dug into his thighs, spreading his legs enough to make Allan's words turn into a shout. He rose up then pushed down hard, making Will loosen his hold a bit as he involuntarily arched up.

"If I survive, Will," Allan continued, clamping Will's legs with his own to keep him still until he could finish. "Do you really think I can't come back?"

Will only whimpered, and tilted his head further back, trying to reach Allan's mouth with his skin. But Allan held back, needing an answer.

"Is there really no hope for me?" he demanded.

Will lowered his head and cracked open his eyes, fixing the outlaw-turned-traitor with a look of so many conflicting emotions Allan couldn't possibly name them all— anger, sadness, regret, trust, desire, loyalty, and love. He seized upon that last one. It was the love that stemmed from the family of outlaws, the love Will had for all of them and they for him, the special part of it reserved just for the man whose hand he now found and twined with his own.

"Allan," he whispered, the first word he'd spoken since he'd kissed his best friend. It was pained and pleading, but it was enough. Allan halted anything else he might have been going to say with a kiss that started Will writhing all over again.

From then on it was a desperate race to remove each other's breeches and experience the true fullness of skin-on-skin, Will silent even in ecstasy, making the small noises that escaped him that much more erotic, while Allan shouted and cursed so that much that at one point Will couldn't help a breathless laugh, even while his fingers clamped on Allan's shoulders and his hips slammed against the wooden table.

The approaching army outside was forgotten, as was the likely possibility that they would never see each other again after this. In fact, the only thought that went through Allan's mind as he bit down on Will's shoulder and shouted his release even as he felt the other man stiffen and shudder beneath him, was that it felt good to be forgiven.

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as always, reviews are extremely appreciated


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